


And Socrates Asked

by missingnolovefic



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Achievement Hunter Kings, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Royalty, God!Michael, Jealousy, King!Ryan, M/M, Major Character Injury, Multi, god!Gavin, guard!Matt, guard!Trevor, soldier!Jeremy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2018-09-20 01:35:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9469598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missingnolovefic/pseuds/missingnolovefic
Summary: Jeremy was fine being just one soldier among many. He was content with being average.Except then King Haywood summoned him to play babysitter for a Godling. What could go wrong?





	1. What's A King To A God?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ShadeOfAzmeinya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadeOfAzmeinya/gifts).



> Happy Birthday, Shade!
> 
> Sorry I had to split it in parts, but I wasn't gonna make it in time otherwise :D promise to update soon(ish).

“My King,” Jeremy murmured, kneeling down before the throne and raising a fist to his heart. He lowered his eyes respectfully.

He’d been in the army since he could pass as old enough to enlist, but in all his years of service, he’d never risen high in the ranks, earned no recommendation to be worthy of the king’s notice. Jeremy knew he never would, lacking the lineage and backing of a noble sponsor. He didn’t care. As long as he got a warm meal per day and had a roof over his head, Jeremy was content with his lot in life.

It did leave him to wonder what, exactly, he was doing here.

The throne hall emptied when he entered, the king dismissing his advisors and guard alike. Only the king himself remained, a tall, imposing figure upon his dark throne. Jeremy had only caught glimpses of him before. An intimidating sight on his black warhorse as he spoke of the evil they would fight in that day’s battle, voice echoing dark and strong across the fields. Or at inspections, but Jeremy never had the bad luck of standing in the front row under the king’s heavy gaze.

“Rise, soldier,” King Haywood spoke, voice a smooth baritone chasing a shiver down Jeremy’s back. “I have a task for you.”

“Sire?” Jeremy questioned uncertainly as he hastily complied with the order, head tilted downwards. He wasn’t sure what the proper etiquette was, cursing that he never thought to ask his friends. Matt would know what to do in this situation. Jeremy, however, had never expected to stand before his sovereign.

“At ease, soldier,” the king said, rising from his seat. His dark purple robes billowed as he walked down the steps. A finger under his chin forced Jeremy to lift his head and meet the king’s icy gaze.

King Haywood mustered him intently. Jeremy held his gaze determinedly, vaguely wondering what the ruler was looking for. It was the first time he was close enough to make out the infamous sapphire blue of the king’s eyes, take in the golden locks in sharp contrast to the black crown decorated only with three large rubies.

Finally, the king nodded and dropped his hand.

“What is your name, soldier?” he asked curiously, tilting his head. Jeremy lowered his eyes, not wanting to be caught staring. They landed on the intricate brooch holding the king’s robes together. At first glance, it looked like interwoven roses, small chips of emeralds representing leaves. He’d nearly missed it, cleverly hidden as it was, but he’d gotten into the habit of looking for this symbol in his youth.

Huh. He hadn’t taken the king for a worshipper of the Golden Fool, trickster god and patron of thieves.

Jeremy shook himself, silently reprimanding himself for his wandering thoughts. His king was still waiting for his answer.

“Jeremy, sire.”

The king nodded again, taking a step to the side and circling around Jeremy, looking him up and down. When he came to stand before him again, he asked his next question.

“And how old are you, Jeremy?”

His voice lilted pleasantly, and yet Jeremy’s hackles rose. Anger sparked in his gut.

“I don’t know, sire,” he bit out, avoiding the king’s eyes and staring resolutely at his brooch instead. People tended to forget that the Trickster was also the god of the downtrodden and orphans. “I have survived many a winter, yet I have no one to account my first.”

Haywood paused, his furrowed brow smoothing out.

“You have no family, then?” he continued casually, and Jeremy gave him a tight nod. “Good. And how long have you served in my army, soldier?”

Jeremy frowned, confused at where this was going. He kept his voice steady though as he promptly answered. “Seven years, sire.”

This seemed to throw the king off for a moment, and he turned a critical eye on Jeremy. His lips thinned as he nodded thoughtfully.

“Well, then,” the king said, turning his back on Jeremy and taking the steps back up to the throne. There he paused, staring off into the distance past the gilded mahogany chair. “I have a task of vast import, young Jeremy. Many have attempted it, yet few have survived the ordeal. Of those survivors most returned to me broken beyond words.”

The king paused, glancing over his shoulder.

“I will not fault you, should you deny me this request. It takes a strong person to shoulder this burden, and I will not pass it onto unwilling hands.”

The king turned around halfway, shooting him a troubled look. Jeremy was starting to suspect he was putting on a show of some sort. But why? He’d never been much good at these mind games nobles loved so much.

“I will ask you only this once, Jeremy. You have served me faithfully for years, will you take on this task as well?”

Jeremy chewed on his lip, considering the monarch, the way he posed during and after his little speech.

“May I speak frankly, your Majesty?” he inquired. Haywood waved his permission. “You’re not asking me because I did anything to catch your attention, sire. You chose me because I’m expendable.”

“Yes,” the king confirmed his suspicions, tilting his head curiously. He paused, observing him carefully. “That does not seem to bother you much.”

Jeremy shrugged. It’s not like he wasn’t used to that kind of mentality. “I appreciate the honesty, sire. I will take on this task.”

Haywood watched him for a moment longer. Then he nodded, beckoning him forth.

“Then follow me, young Jeremy. What I will show you now you will treat with utmost discretion,” he warned him, stepping past the throne and into a tunnel directly behind it, hidden partially by a decorative plant. The secret hall lead into a small antechamber, and the king pulled a torch from its bracket. He shot Jeremy another calculating look, then turned the empty bracket counterclockwise.

A click. With a groan, the wall rolled to the side, opening a dark pathway.

The king lead the way, torchlight bouncing off smooth obsidian walls. Jeremy swallowed hard. Whatever this was about - he got the feeling it was big. The hall lead down to a small chamber with a stone altar. The king used the torch to light the candles in the golden candelabra and the extinguished torches in their brackets. At long last he dropped his own torch in a golden bowl. Green flames sprang up, throwing everything into surreal light. Then they died down into a glimmer of greenish embers, and a soft, golden glow took its place.

Jeremy shielded his eyes, squinting as the gold flashed bright white for a second.

When he opened them again, he was no longer alone with the king. A man with a soft golden tan sat cross-legged on the altar, his jewelry and a thin green scarf tied around his hips barely covering his nakedness. He seemed almost ethereally beautiful. The light let his skin shine like pure gold, his sun-bleached hair framing curious hazel-green eyes.

“Ryan,” the man spoke up, shooting Haywood a toothy grin. “It’s been a while!”

“Yes, well,” the king cleared his throat, then motioned Jeremy closer. “It took some time to find a suitable replacement.”

The golden man narrowed his eyes, mouth drawing into a pout as he crossed his arms.

“You could have visited, you mong,” he admonished, slipping off the altar and giving the king a pointed look. Jeremy had to avert his eyes as the loincloth shifted precariously. He blushed. “It’s not like I require a sacrifice for a summons. Especially not from you.”

A cold shiver ran down Jeremy’s spine. Sacrifice?

“My apologies,” Haywood drawled insincerely, arching an eyebrow. “I thought time had no meaning for you.”

The other man squawked indignantly, pointing at the king as he opened and closed his mouth. Finally he snorted vexedly, turning his back on him.

“Fine, have it your way,” he snapped crossly, turning his narrowed eyes on Jeremy. He gulped. “See if I’ll ever tell you again when I miss you.”

Haywood sighed, shoulders slumping. He reached out for the other, gently tugging on his shoulder, but the man stood firm. He turned his head and closed his eyes with a theatrical _hmph_.

“Gavin, come on,” the king cajoled pleadingly. He dragged his fingers through his hair, nearly dislodging the crown on his head. “I’m sorry. It’s been a busy couple weeks.”

Gavin sniffed, opening one eye to glance over his shoulder.

“Alright, I’ll forgive you. On one condition,” he declared, a grin spreading over his lips. “A kiss!”

Jeremy gaped at the audacity, turning to look at the king when he chuckled darkly.

“I see how it is,” he replied bemusedly, pulling the other man into his arms. Gavin wrapped his own around Haywood’s waist, smirking smugly. The king tipped his chin up with a finger, leaning in to brush their mouths together.

Jeremy- Jeremy wasn’t sure what he expected. Nothing had gone as he expected today since he’d been called before his king. He certainly hadn’t expected to watch the man in a passionate embrace with another. Man, being, creature, whatever Gavin was. Jeremy shuffled awkwardly in place, glancing around the room to look anywhere but.

He certainly didn’t expect them to take their sweet time.

Finally the king pulled back, smiling softly at his lover. The other man hummed, brushing his lips over the corner of the king’s mouth, along his jawline, then nuzzled the side of his neck. Haywood grabbed the man by the upper arms, stilling his roaming hands and pushing him away a couple inches.

“I have brought you a new companion,” he reminded the man, who shot the king an arched look before turning to eye Jeremy.

“So I see,” Gavin drawled, wriggling out of the king’s embrace to circle the soldier. He harrumphed, wrinkling his nose. “He’s short,” he complained, shooting the king a dark look.

Haywood crossed his arms and smirked. “You always lament how I’m taller than you, dear. I thought you’d welcome the change.”

“By one inch!” Gavin protested, sounding offended. He mustered Jeremy critically, lower lip pushed out in a pout that turned into an appreciative smirk. “He has wide shoulders, though.”

The king hummed in agreement. Gavin continued his inspection, slowly revolving around Jeremy.

“Well muscled, too,” he added, tilting his head as he admired the tight tunic. “I suppose it’d be too much to ask him to strip first?”

Haywood snorted. “Indeed,” he retorted, shaking his head. “You can get yourself acquainted later, if he’s willing. For now,” he paused, finally turning his focus to Jeremy, who straightened under the sudden attention. “Soldier, this is your charge. You will accompany him for a month and serve him as faithfully as you’ve served me. You will be richly rewarded, should you survive that long.”

The corner of the king’s mouth ticked upwards, and Jeremy felt a sudden sense of foreboding.

“As you wish, sire,” he accepted his orders, bowing with one fist rapping against his chest above his heart. “I will not disappoint you.”

“Hm, we’ll see,” Haywood replied slowly. He turned his gaze back to Gavin. “Try not to kill this one with your schemes.”

“That was an accident!” Gavin objected, miming dismay. The king snorted.

“As was the one before that, I’m sure,” he snarked. The king turned to leave, but Gavin grabbed his arm, pulling him in for a quick and dirty kiss.

“I’ll see you tonight?” he asked hopefully, looking at the king with lowered lashes.

“Perhaps,” Haywood hedged, cupping his face and leaning in for a softer, lingering kiss.

Jeremy watched, at a loss. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but he’d do his best to survive Gavin’s orders the following month. And how bad could it be? After all, if there was one thing Jeremy proved good at, it was surviving.

Gavin stared after the king’s retreating back for a long moment, before he shook himself and turned to Jeremy with a sharp grin.

“Well then! This’ll be fun, I promise,” he said eagerly, clasping Jeremy’s shoulder. “Jeremy, was it?”

“Yes, my lord,” he replied unevenly, unsure of how to address the other. The king had called him Gavin, but never mentioned his title or surname. Still, better safe than sorry. Nobles were peculiar about their etiquette. Gavin waved him off, however.

“None of that. Call me Gavin,” he commanded cheerfully, tugging Jeremy into his side. “After all we’re, like, best friends for this coming month.”

“Is that what you tell all the boys?” Jeremy blurted before he could stop himself. Gavin stared at him in wide-eyed surprise before he barked out a laugh.

“Maybe,” he agreed shamelessly, shrugging one shoulder. “But if you keep that up, I have a feeling we’ll get along just fine.”

“Right,” Jeremy said dazedly, gulping. “So, uh. What exactly am I supposed to do?”

“Oh, did Ryan not explain?” Gavin asked nonchalantly, dropping his arm from around Jeremy’s shoulders and grabbing his wrist to tug him along. There was a heavily reinforced door to the side of the altar he hadn’t noticed earlier, and Gavin lead him toward there now. “I grow bored, so Ryan keeps throwing playmates at me. Or as he refers to them, babysitters.”

Gavin rolled his eyes, leading Jeremy into the huge chamber behind the iron door. There was a large king-sized bed in the middle, wardrobes and mirrors, several chaise lounges around a fireplace off to the side. It was a chamber fit for royalty, decorated in golds and greens. Gavin directed him to the chaises, dropping down on one and gesturing for Jeremy to take the other.

“Personally, I think Ryan just likes to keep me occupied so I don’t cause him too much mischief. I don’t mind, really,” he continued explaining, except nothing really made sense.

Jeremy sat gingerly down on the cushions, examining the upholstery. Green and gold wove together into nonsensical patterns and curls, but he kept noticing the Fool’s Symbol among them. He glanced around, and now that he was looking, the sign kept jumping out to him. It was weird to see it among such luxury. Worship of the trickster god was rare amongst the elite, and more common with the poor and homeless.

“If I may ask, my lo- Gavin,” he corrected himself hastily, hoping to stay on his new superior’s good side. “Who are you that his Majesty indulges you this much?”

Gavin grinned wickedly, plucking a grape from a side table. He turned the fruit between his fingers before popping it into his mouth, taking his time with his answer.

“I’m sure you’ve already divined that Ryan is my lover,” Gavin said casually, turning on his side to watch Jeremy. There was a weird gleam of anticipation in his eyes. “He’s my betrothed, too. Not until he has produced a heir and done what-not, of course. He has big plans, but it’s inevitable in the end. He was promised to me before his birth, and have him I will.”

Jeremy stared at him wide-eyed.

“I- Who are you?”

Gavin smirked.

“Who do you think?” he challenged mischievously, fingers idly tracing the patterns stitched into the cushion. Jeremy’s eyes followed his finger, trailing along the Fool’s Symbol for a third time. There was something hypnotic in the movement, and Jeremy tore his gaze away, meeting wicked hazel-green eyes.

“Oh.” Realization dawned. Jeremy swallowed. “I, uh. What- How should I-”

“Don’t worry your pretty head, Jeremy,” Gavin teased, chuckling. He perused the fruit bowl, inspecting its gifts. “For this month, I’ll just be Gavin to you.”

“Right,” he replied dazedly. A god. A literal god. “I’ll… try to remember that.”

Gavin snorted. “You’ll curse my name soon enough,” he predicted idly, biting into a round, red apple. Jeremy gave him a dubious look, but decided to let it rest for now.

This was not what he expected. Not what he expected at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We formed a new religion  
> No sins as long as there’s permission  
> And deception is the only felony  
> So never fuck nobody without telling me  
> \- No Church in the Wild by Jay Z & Kanye West


	2. What's A God To A Nonbeliever?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin and Ryan have some things to work out between them, and Gavin takes Jeremy adventuring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm overwhelmed by the support and feedback this fic has garnered so quickly! Thank you, all of you.

The doors to their chamber banged open, and Jeremy flinched back from where he’d been tracing Gavin’s throat with his teeth, head snapping up to watch his sovereign stomp into the rooms. Gavin muttered a protest as Jeremy slipped out of him, pulling up the sheets to at least cover their lower halves.

“My king,” Jeremy murmured, bowing his head respectfully as he blushed bright red in embarrassment. Haywood shot him a dark look, before blithely ignoring him in favour of Gavin.

“What,” he ground out from between gritted teeth, his hands clenching into fists at his side, “exactly are you doing?”

“Having sex, duh,” Gavin said exasperatedly. He stretched sinuously, arching his back as he shot the king a smouldering look. “Wanna join?”

Jeremy glanced at the god in askance, subtly trying to wipe himself clean with the sheet without indecently exposing himself to the king. Haywood snorted, pacing around the bed with a glare in Jeremy’s direction, before settling down in the armchair across from them. Gavin sat up, watching him shrewdly.

“No, by all means, keep on ignoring me,” the king drawled sarcastically, waving a hand absently. Jeremy blinked, taken aback. Gavin had assured him the king wouldn’t mind their adventures in bed, but… something felt off.

“What’s wrong with you?” Gavin demanded to know with a huff, clambering gracelessly out of the bed and walking over to the chair completely in the nude. Jeremy wanted to avert his eyes, except he didn’t dare miss what could very well seal his fate.

“What’s the matter with _me_?” Haywood asked in turn, disbelieving. “Apparently I have been replaced, betrayed by the very companion I gave into your hands!”

“To serve and satisfy me as I required in your absence,” Gavin shot back, brows furrowing. He cocked his head. “Was that not the deal?”

“In my absence, yes!” the king yelled, his nails digging into the upholstery of the chair’s arms. “Do I seem absent to you? Is my presence here no longer welcome?”

Jeremy bit his lip, slipping out of the bed and looking for his clothes, hoping to go by unnoticed. Gavin meanwhile eyed the king contemplatively, tapping a finger to his chin in thought. Then, his face lit up with realization, a grin breaking out across his face.

“Aw Ryan, you’re jealous!” Gavin exclaimed delightedly, climbing into the king’s lap and cupping his face. “You’re jealous, my love, aren’t you?”

Haywood’s jaw worked, teeth gritted.

“You’ve taken a shine to this one,” he finally ground out, turning his head away from the god’s touch. “You haven’t complained even once, and it’s been a fortnight since you last visited with me.”

Gavin threw up his hands, slipping out of his lap.

“I thought that was the idea! You send me companions to keep me busy and out of your hair, and now you’re mad because it’s working?” Gavin cried out, disbelief in his voice.

“Working too well, judging by how cozy you two just were,” Haywood spat, standing and waving at the bed accusingly. Gavin gave him a sharp look.

“You’ve walked in on me sleeping with mortals before and were perfectly fine with it,” he snapped back, poking the king’s chest with a finger. “Don’t pretend it’s about that.”

“And what if it is?” Haywood challenged, chin jutting out stubbornly. “What if I changed my mind?”

Gavin made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat. He stalked around the king to drop in the abandoned chair.

“Then you talk to me, you mincey prick,” he told him, shaking his head. “Don’t just suddenly start throwing a fit. For this to work, we have to com-”

Gavin broke off, looking up at Jeremy with a quizzical frown. Jeremy had used their preoccupation to quietly slip into his breeches, feeling too vulnerable in his nudity. He was gathering his sword, tunic, belt and shoes, deciding to put them on outside, when Gavin interrupted him.

“Jeremy, where are you going, dear?” he called out, sounding puzzled.

“If my King is uncomfortable with me sharing a bed with you,” Jeremy explained resolutely, dropping the other stuff and pulling his tunic over his head now that he’d been caught, “then I’m not sharing a bed with you.”

“Wot?” Gavin yelped, scrambling out of the chair and over to him “Just like that?”

Jeremy paused to give him a look.

“Of course. He’s my King,” he said simply. Gavin waved his words away impatiently.

“And I’m the God of Chaos, Lies and Poor Souls,” he said irritably, putting his fists to his hips. “Yet you don’t care to respect me much.”

“No, somehow, I lost all respect after you nearly got me killed the third time or so,” Jeremy replied drily.

“Three times already?” Haywood demanded, sounding dismayed. “Gavin!”

“Wot?” the blond snapped, crossing his arms defensively. “He’s still alive, isn’t he?”

“That’s not the point!” the king burst out, exasperated. Jeremy shifted nervously, glancing between them. “We talked about this, Gavin! You need to stop playing with human lives, even if they mean nothing to you-”

“What does it matter?” Gavin shot back irritably, gesturing emphatically. “Human lives are short anyway, it’s not like it makes much of a difference-”

“It does to _us_ ,” Haywood shouted, throwing up his hands in the air. Jeremy flinched.

“To _them_ , you mean,” Gavin replied harshly, narrowing his eyes at the king. He stepped back into his space, gesturing towards Jeremy. “Stop pretending like you’re the same as _them_.”

They glared at each other, noses nearly brushing with how close they were standing. Jeremy licked his lips nervously, clearing his throat. Two pairs of hard eyes flicked to him, pinning him in place.

“It, uh, was more than three times?” he ventured uncertainly, smiling hesitantly. “But, I’m fine! All healed up now!” He glanced between them, then muttered under his breath, “Though I’ll never agree to wrestle a wolf _ever_ again.”

The king eyed him silently, before quirking a wry smile.

“A wolf, of all things?” he asked, turning his exasperated glare on the godling in front of him. “Really, Gavin?”

“Wot,” he squawked defensively, sniffing haughtily. Then he grinned devilishly. “It was quite the sight! Jeremy is surprisingly strong for his size, you shouldn’t underestimate him!”

“But a _wolf_ , Gavin,” Haywood repeated plainly, obviously begging for an ounce of common sense. “No matter how strong you think he is, he’s still _human_. Mortal.”

He shot Jeremy a desperate look, and Jeremy shrugged apologetically. Gavin wrinkled his nose.

“But! He won, and he came out of it alive, and that’s all that counts.” He plastered a bright, winning smile onto his face. “Right?”

The king eyed him warily, shaking his head bemusedly. “Right. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He took a step back, turning to face Jeremy instead. He mustered the soldier for a long moment, and Jeremy blushed again, reminded of how literally naked he’d been mere moments beforehand. He clutched his sword to his chest, instinctively trying to cover himself.

“Learn to tell him no,” Haywood advised finally, giving him a small nod.

“I’ll try,” Jeremy replied with a rueful grin. He glanced towards where Gavin was watching the both of them with a weird look on his face. “I’m not very good at it, though,” he admitted, ducking his head.

The king shrugged, stalking back towards the door.

“You’ll learn, or you’ll pay the price,” he prophesied, and Jeremy shuddered at the dark tone.

 

* * *

 

“I’m not going to wrestle a bear!” Jeremy hissed, gesturing towards the end of the dark cave. “I barely survived the wolf, there’s no way I’d manage to fight a fucking _bear_.”

“Aww, but Jeremy,” Gavin pouted down at him, tugging on his sleeve. “Besides, who said anything about fighting? We’re just gonna sneak in and pet the cubs!”

“Of all the harebrained schemes,” Jeremy cursed quietly. He shot the blond a withering look. “Now seems like a good time to practice that ‘saying no to you’ thing.”

“But, Jeremy, look!” Gavin insisted, eyes wide and shiny. “Look how cute they are! Don’t you wanna pet them?”

“And get eaten by the mother?” Jeremy pointed out incredulously, though he reluctantly followed after the godling. Gavin dragged him further into the cave, and Jeremy squinted in the dark. He could make out small, round shapes on the floor, but the light filtered in poorly.

“The mother’s out hunting for food, we’ll be long gone before she comes back,” Gavin explained, waving his concern off. He knelt down on the floor next to one of the shapes, cooing quietly. “Look at them, Jeremy!”

“I can’t really see well in the dark,” Jeremy muttered, rubbing his elbow nervously. He bit his lip before carefully stepping up behind Gavin. The godling paused in his baby talk and weird noises, glancing up at Jeremy. He snapped his fingers and little fairy lights appeared around the cavern, throwing everything into a warm, yellow glow.

The cubs were indeed very cute, Jeremy had to admit. He stared at them in awe, before carefully holding out his hand for one of them to sniff. The nose was soft and slightly wet, and it slapped Jeremy’s hand with its paw. Jeremy laughed, scratching its head.

“Okay, I hate to admit it, but this was worth it,” he marveled, and Gavin shot him a brilliant grin. The godling was cuddling one of the cubs to his chest, an indescribably sweet picture.

“Told you so!” He giggled, the bear cub licking his cheeks. Jeremy smiled, reluctantly disentangling himself from the bear cub who laid its head on his palm.

“We should go,” he murmured, sounding unconvinced. “Before the mother returns.”

“Aww, but Jeremy,” Gavin pouted up at him, giving the cub a little kiss to the head. “Just five more minutes?”

“One,” Jeremy relented, holding up a finger. He stood up and brushed off his pants, before walking back over to the bend, peering out of the cave. “Better turn off the lights, too, we don’t want to draw unwanted attention to the babies.”

“Stop worrying, you worrywart,” Gavin scolded absently, waving a hand, and the lights winked out.

Jeremy smiled to himself as the godling went back to cooing over the cubs, keeping an eye out on the mouth of the cave. The Trickster was too used to getting his way. Hopefully Gavin was right, and they wouldn’t run into the mother. He wasn’t counting on it - adventures with the godling rarely worked out as seamlessly as they planned. He thought he understood where the king was coming from, when he accused Gavin of not having a real concept of mortality.

It made sense, he guessed. It’s not something a god usually has to worry about, after all.

A roar interrupted his thoughts, and Jeremy looked up to see something huge and furry charging at him.

“Oh shit!” Jeremy yelled, stumbling back into the cave, turning to shout over his shoulder, “Bear! Watch out!”

He drew his sword and shield, but he lifted them barely in time as the bear was already upon him. Huge jaws opened wide in front of his face, and Jeremy brought his shield up with a desperate cry. The wood splintered under the force, sending Jeremy staggering back. Another roar shook him to the bone. He felt the blood rushing through his ears, drowning out everything but the beast in front of him.

A claw swiped at him.

Jeremy brought his sword up, almost blocking the strike. The strength behind the blow made his arm quiver, and the tips of the claw caught his hand. His fingers spasmed, and with a cry he dropped his weapon. The bear fell back onto its paws, snapping at Jeremy. He barely dodged, rolling to the side. It followed after him, jaws catching onto his pant leg and ripping it apart.

“Run!” Jeremy yelled before it turned into a scream of agony. Sharp claws tore across his stomach, ripping through the chainmail like butter. Fire licked at his insides as he was thrown down to the ground. A heavy paw settled on his chest and spittle flew across his face as the beast roared again.

“Jeremy!” he heard Gavin cry, as he raised his arms to protect his head. “Stop! Stop!”

The last thing he saw was the snarling maw of the bear right in his face. The world swam and darkened, the running footsteps sounding distorted. His stomach felt hot and wet, and oh, that wasn’t a good sign, was it? Jeremy closed his eyes, and the world vanished.

 

* * *

 

Gavin sat on the edge of the bed, staring at Jeremy’s pale face. He swallowed before bringing his gaze down to stare at the white bandages peeking out from beneath the blanket. Deep gouges were drawn across his stomach, and his right hand was scratched up badly. The healers were relatively sure he’d heal up nicely enough, if he survived the night. If.

And it was all Gavin’s fault.

He squeezed Jeremy’s left hand, covering it in both of his own. He’d sat vigil at his bedside throughout the night, ignoring the food that was brought for him by the servants. Ryan had visited briefly in the morning, his expression grim, before he had to go take care of his responsibilities.

Gavin had remained.

He slid his finger up to rest lightly under Jeremy’s wrist. The blood pulsed reassuringly as it flowed past. Gavin sighed. He didn’t know how often he had checked, scared by how still Jeremy lay on the bed. The rise and fall of his chest was barely noticeable, and more than once he’d panicked, assuming the unthinkable had happened.

He couldn’t imagine his life without Jeremy, now, and the thought hit him like a cannonball.

It was folly, to fall for a mortal. There was no known way to gift them with the eternal life, and he had Ryan besides. Humans lived such short lives in comparison, it wasn’t worth it to get attached. But… he had nearly cut Jeremy’s short life even shorter. Had almost stolen the opportunity to spend the rest of those small moments with him from himself.

And maybe it was selfish, but Gavin rarely knew how not to be.

His heart had stopped, and his stomach lurched, when he looked up to see Michael tearing into Jeremy, the man already covered in red. He’d propelled himself forward, begging Michael to stop, calling Jeremy’s name again and again. Blood had seeped into his clothes and pooled around his form, his breath harsh and irregular. Michael had backed off, and Gavin had panicked, gathering Jeremy’s unconscious body and transporting them across the ether back to the palace.

He didn’t blame the other god. Michael had seen all the signs of poachers and reacted accordingly, in protection of his patron animal. Not all worshippers were human, after all.

The healers had gotten to Jeremy just in time. The soldier had lost a lot of blood, and the wounds were deep, but the entrails and organs were still intact and in the right place. It had taken some quick needlework to stitch Jeremy back up, and now they could only hope he wouldn’t develope a fever. Gavin had been tempted to seek out the Goddess of Healing for a favour, but reluctant to leave Jeremy’s side for even a second. He’d sent her a prayer instead and hoped she’d find his cause worthy of intervention.

A hand settled on his shoulder, and Gavin jumped. He looked up to find Ryan standing behind him, smiling at him tiredly.

Gavin hadn’t even noticed him entering. He felt another pang of guilt. There had been truth to his lover’s words, when he spoke of neglect - Gavin had discovered a shiny new toy and spared his betrothed barely a thought. And yet, Ryan was kind when he returned his latest companion worse for the wear. He didn’t say a word aside from ordering the healers to attend Jeremy, and he’d stood by Gavin as he paced in ever growing horror. He’d held him when he broke down, away from prying eyes. He’d let him stay at Jeremy’s side, after.

For all his newfound jealousy, Ryan had always been a kind man first.

“It’s my fault,” Gavin choked out, turning back to watch over Jeremy again. The hand on his shoulder tightened. “You were right. I didn’t think. I played and joked and teased and it was all meant in good fun and yet- yet Jeremy paid the price for my carelessness.”

Ryan was silent for a long moment. Gavin concentrated on his touch to hold back the tears threatening at the corner of his eyes.

“You care for him,” he finally pointed out quietly, and Gavin slumped with a sigh.

“I do,” he admitted.

In that, too, Ryan had been right. Had been able to see it before Gavin ever deigned to consider such a thing. Gavin had wondered, at first, why Ryan thought differently of his new companion when he’d slept with many others before, and Ryan couldn’t have cared less. But Jeremy was different - and Ryan recognized that. No wonder he’d been jealous.

Gavin wondered where else he had failed them.

“He’ll be alright,” Ryan murmured, dragging a chair over and sitting beside Gavin with a tired sigh.

“If he makes it through the night,” Gavin muttered darkly, his stomach twisting anxiously.

“It’s already past dinner,” Ryan said, nudging him gently. He glanced towards the untouched food with a frown. “You haven’t eaten.”

“I have no need for food,” Gavin waved him off irritably. He rubbed over his eyes, taking a deep breath. “He’s been sleeping for a day now. Surely he must wake soon?”

Ryan remained quiet for a long moment, reaching out and squeezing Gavin’s arm.

“He sustained serious injury. This is normal for mortals - it’s a good sign. While he sleeps, he heals,” he explained softly, and Gavin let his head drop on his shoulder. Ryan reached up to card through the blond locks. “He must mean a lot to you, to have you this out of sorts.”

“He does,” Gavin agreed, turning to glance up at Ryan. “But so do you. I’m… sorry for my thoughtless actions, my love. You’ve done your best to keep me entertained, and I’ve been less than grateful for your attempts.”

Ryan hummed.

“You have been patient with me, my dear,” he replied slowly, fingers brushing over Gavin’s temple. “I realize my wishes are hard for you to comprehend, small as they must seem to you. I _am_ thankful for the room and time you’ve given me.”

“Of course,” Gavin returned instantly. “I love you, you must know that.”

“I do.” Ryan turned his head to brush his lip across his forehead, and Gavin closed his eyes, fingers slipping to feel Jeremy’s pulse. “He must be special to have caught your attention.”

Gavin shrugged.

“He is, I suppose. He’s… funny and loyal and brave. And… disrespectful, in a way. Not openly, not like that but. All other companions you’ve sent me, they were… afraid. In awe. They followed me blindly and never dared question me. I was always undoubtedly a god and they a mortal. Jeremy… With Jeremy it’s almost like we’re equals. He doesn’t quite… forget but… he lets me forget. That we’re not equals.”

“A situation we both put him in,” Ryan pointed out, and Gavin bit his lips, nodding.

“Well. There is still time to rectify that. And…” Ryan trailed off, lifting Gavin’s chin with a finger. Gavin blinked up at him, uncertain where this was going. Ryan swallowed. “I would like to get to know him. To find out what has you so enraptured with this one mortal.”

Gavin smiled, bright and grateful.

“I would love that,” he whispered, leaning up to kiss Ryan. Next to them, Jeremy continued to breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've [created a tag](http://miss-ingno.tumblr.com/tagged/and-socrates-asked/chrono) on my tumblr where I answer questions regarding this story, including some background on Ryan and Gavin's relationship.
> 
> The amazing kayssna wrote [this lovely ficlet](http://miss-ingno.tumblr.com/post/156639234552/in-response-to-the-ask-talking-about-if-gavin-has) about young Ryan and Gavin.


	3. But Who Likes A Nonbeliever?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A month is over and Jeremy is recovering well. He knows he should move on, but that's easier said than done.
> 
> And the king has other plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! I ended up splitting the chapter because I couldn't fit everything I wanted and needed to happen into 3k xD"

“...for extraordinary services in the name of the crown, We knight thee Sir Jeremy of Dooley.”

The sword lifted from his shoulder, and Jeremy remained kneeling in front of his king, head bowed. A persistent murmur went through the crowd ever since the ceremony started, the court only deigning to quiet as the king spoke. It was annoying but easy enough to ignore, like the low buzzing of flies.

“Rise, Sir Jeremy,” His Majesty intoned solemnly, and Jeremy furtively glanced up at him while straightening to his full height. Which was still comparatively small. The king shot him a quick smile, taking him by the shoulders and turning him to face the crowd. “Sir Jeremy has earned the honour to serve as Our personal guard and advisor to the crown henceforth.”

The whispers rose sharply at that announcement, but the king lifted a hand to silence them.

Jeremy stepped back and took his place among the kingsguard, heart beating fast and palms sweaty. The other knights kept eyeing him subtly, but Jeremy tuned them and the court out, only listening to the king’s lilting speech with half an ear. His gaze wandered across the mass of nobles, before coming to rest on a familiar golden head. Mischievous green eyes glinted up at him from underneath a blond forelock, flickering away from the king to catch Jeremy looking.

Gavin had been acting weird, lately. Weirder than usual, at any rate.

Ever since Jeremy had nearly died of that bear attack, he’d been more subdued, spending the remainder of their time together at Jeremy’s bedside rather than causing mischief in the world. Jeremy honestly hadn’t known Gavin _could_ sit still that long. He’d been grateful for the company, of course, if a little wistful that these moments would soon come to an end. Their time together was, after all, limited to only a moon cycle.

The king, too, had visited him regularly, much to Jeremy’s surprise.

Most evenings the king came by to sit with Jeremy after dinner, divested of his royal regalia. At first, Jeremy had assumed he came to talk with Gavin, indulging the other’s guilt-riddled desire to sit watch at Jeremy’s side as he recuperated. Often they would leave together for the royal chambers, affirming this belief for Jeremy, except...

Except.

Except then the king visited even though Gavin wasn’t there, talked to Jeremy and asked him his opinion on the discussions he was having with Gavin. Paid attention to his words, asked for stories of his past, and then listened intently as Jeremy haltingly told his tale. It almost seemed like the king was… _interested_ in Jeremy as a person? Which was a stupid idea, but an impression Jeremy couldn’t quite shake.

Except… except. There was the kiss.

It wasn’t, like, a big deal- just a chaste kiss goodnight, not even any tongue nor any real intent behind it. But maybe Jeremy’s inherent need to justify the kiss was evidence enough that the kiss _did_ matter. To him, at the very least. And to the king, too, perhaps. He couldn’t be certain.

Look, it wasn’t something Jeremy was especially proud of, but the fact was: he had fallen for Gavin, and he had fallen hard. He knew their time together was limited, and that the other was spoken for - possessively so, considering the king’s reaction to finding them in bed together. He’d sworn off touching Gavin afterwards, not willing to risk his sovereign’s wrath for something so insignificant as temporary pleasure.

And Gavin was a God. Jeremy knew it wasn’t meant to last.

But Gavin kissed him anyway as the last night of their month together drew to a close. Gavin kissed him, chaste and full of meaning, and right in front of the king. Jeremy had closed his eyes, heart in his throat as he revelled in the sensation, knowing it might very well be their last. When he opened his eyes, he’d glanced at the king, so certain to see that flash of possessive jealous, or a warning look to not take the kiss for granted or ask for more, but-

Instead, Ryan had smiled, thumb stroking over Jeremy’s knuckles before he rose and wished him a good night’s sleep. They left together, the king and his godling, with sweet words and promises unspoken.

It left Jeremy confused.

 

* * *

 

Something Jeremy learned quickly was that His Majesty rarely took time to himself. He was always at court, meeting with his advisors or receiving complainants seeking an audience with the king, nobles and peasants alike. Meals were just another excuse for the intrigues of the court, and whoever had the honour sitting on the king’s end of the table always made the most of the evening, trying to convince him of their view.

So he was pleasantly surprised to hear the king was taking the rest of the afternoon to enjoy a ride out into the woods. Less pleasant was the fact he was going to leave his guard behind, except for-

“Me?” Jeremy squeaked, staring wide-eyed up at Sir Burns. The Captain of the Guard gave him a dark look.

“You,” he repeated, sounding disgruntled. “The king specifically requested your presence, Dooley. Grab your gear and saddle your horse-”

“I don’t have a horse,” Jeremy interrupted weakly. He felt light-headed. Burns paused, his lip twitching disdainfully.

“Then go ask the stablemaster for one,” he ordered shortly, shooing him off.

Jeremy did as asked, heart in his throat. Gavin joined him just as the stablehand returned with one of the retired messenger mares.

“No. No, that won’t do,” Gavin objected, snapping his fingers at the startled girl. “You there, return that poor thing to the meadows. We’re getting you a proper steed from the royal stables, Jeremy.”

“But Gavin-”

“You can’t just take any horse from the royals!” the stablemaster protested, stepping in their way.

“I can and I will,” Gavin responded mulishly, before gesturing towards Jeremy. “Do you not recognize Sir Dooley of the Royal Guard? Or are you intentionally endangering your king on his ride by giving his guard a subpar horse?”

“Now listen here, brat,” the stablemaster said sharply, lifting a hand before he froze and grew pale. Jeremy followed his gaze, glancing over his shoulder. The king stood there, eyes narrowed and mouth thin. Jeremy startled.

“What is going on here?” the king inquired, voice deceptively mild.

“Your M-majesty,” the stablemaster stuttered. “I was just- I mean-”

“He was just refusing to get us horses, is what,” Gavin spoke up, annoyed. He crossed his arms over his chest.

The stablemaster glared at the blond. “Not just everyone can come in here and demand-!”

“Gavin, my dear,” Ryan interrupted, ignoring the stablemaster entirely. He grabbed him by the elbow, tugging the sulking god around to face him. “You know I always send ahead to have one saddled for you.”

“Doesn’t help Jeremy, though, does it?” Gavin shot back, pouting. Jeremy blushed as the king’s heavy gaze landed on him.

“You don’t own a horse?” he inquired, sounding confused. Jeremy’s cheeks were burning in shame. It just never seemed necessary, to put money aside for one, when he was just a foot soldier in the ranks. Not like he was going to be promoted, anyway, but that’s not something he could tell the king.

“No, sire,” he admitted, ducking his head. The king’s brow knitted into a frown.

“After serving in my army for seven years?” he asked, incredulous. Then suspicion crept into his tone. “You do know how to ride, don’t you?”

“And wield a sword on horseback while in full armour, yes, sire,” Jeremy quickly agreed. The king just appeared more puzzled.

“Well, then,” he murmured, eyeing Jeremy thoughtfully. Then he shook his head. “That can be easily rectified, then. Stablemaster.” He turned to address the other man. “We will require another horse for Sir Dooley. The stallion that arrived recently from the South, perhaps?”

“But S-sire! That was a-” The king glared the man down. “R-right away, Your Majesty.”

Jeremy shuffled awkwardly, but a quick glance at the king’s stony mien stopped him from saying anything. They left without further delay, Jeremy trailing after Gavin and Ryan, riding side by side.

The king led them along a path that curved around the city, turning to the fields and woods beyond. Soon they were trotting through the forest, under the dappled shadows of old trees. Slowly, the king seemed to relax.

“We used to come here in my youth,” he said, breaking the silence. He shot Gavin a fond glance. “Back when I was just a prince. We’d sneak out of the castle and hide in here. It drove Mother crazy.”

“You never were _just_ anything,” Gavin chided gently, tugging on the reins and leading his horse through several bushes into a well-hidden clearing. He turned to address Jeremy. “This is our place. Where we can be _us_ , without any expectations.”

Jeremy looked over at the king. Ryan smiled back at him.

“We wanted to show you,” he offered, slipping off his horse and tying it to a tree. Jeremy followed suit. There was a world of meaning in those words, and Jeremy wasn’t sure what to think.

“Come on, there’s a river over there!” Gavin enthused, throwing him a sly grin. “I want to show you where I took Ryan the first time.”

The king blushed bright red, and it took Jeremy a moment to catch on. Then his face started feeling hot, too.

“Gavin!” Ryan protested, and the god laughed.

“We’ve made love before, of course,” he confided to Jeremy in a loud whisper. “But it was a special occasion, as a first for Ryan.” He paused, then added. “Humans. Sometimes I just don’t understand you.”

“We noticed,” Ryan said, exasperatedly. He avoided Jeremy’s eyes, but motioned him to follow. “Might as well rest by the river.”

Jeremy trailed after them, head light and feeling hot all over. That was more personal than he’d expected. He paused, looking around the clearing. All of this was more personal than he had any right to expect. He bit his lip.

Maybe he was putting meaning where none was to be found. He nodded to himself. That must be it. He was just a guard - they could’ve taken anyone for protection. Gavin and Ryan just wanted to spend some time in their special place, and Jeremy was convenient because he knew about the god.

There was nothing more to it when the king invited him to sit with them and ordered him to call him Ryan in private. No hidden meaning in the way he looked at him, laid a hand on his shoulder. How his eyes lingered on his chest as he pulled off his shirt to dip into the river for one of Gavin’s whims. How his heart beat hard and fast when he managed to make Ryan laugh, the flush on his cheeks. Nothing special to the way Ryan’s fingers brushed over his hands as he handed him the reins of his horse.

It felt like a lie, even in his own head.

 

* * *

 

A couple days after their private outing in the woods, a messenger boy called him back to the stables. A black stallion stood there, tossing its head.

“What…” Jeremy trailed off, confused.

“It’s yours,” the stablemaster explained gruffly, eyeing Jeremy suspiciously.

“Oh.” He blinked rapidly, surprised. He stepped closer carefully, offering the horse his palm to smell. It snorted. “I- does he have a name?”

“Well, that’s for you to decide, innit?” Gavin asked, appearing by his side suddenly. Jeremy jumped. “You like him?”

“He’s beautiful,” Jeremy offered, patting the horse’s neck. “He looks like a Booker, doesn’t he? Booker.”

“A good name.” Gavin hummed smugly, grinning at him with too many teeth. “I’ll let Ryan know you liked his gift.”

Jeremy startled. “Rya- I mean, the king’s gift?”

“Of course.” Gavin gave him a puzzled look. “Who else would buy you a horse?”

Jeremy had no answer for that. Instead, he turned back to the stallion, stroking its head.

It didn’t have to mean anything.

A glance at Gavin’s smug face made him think otherwise. Jeremy blushed, ducking his head. One of the stablehands brought him an apple, and Jeremy fed it to Booker absent-mindedly.

He swore he wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

 

* * *

 

The generals and advisors gathered around the table kept shooting him dark looks. Jeremy shrugged them off, paying close attention to the map as they laid out the current situation. A war approached with a neighbouring kingdom, and the ambassador they’d sent to negotiate had been returned to them in pieces. A meeting with the crown prince leading the army was their last hope for a peaceful resolution.

“It’s a trap. An ambush,” one of the surly old men scoffed.

“Then we should use that to our advantage to set one of our own,” another pointed out calmly. “Send in a decoy they could mistake for Your Majesty at a distance decked out in royal regalia, then wait for the trap to spring.”

“Surprising them will be difficult,” the general grumbled. “The mountain pass is small. Their scouts would see any flanking armies long before the negotiations started.”

The room fell silent as everyone studied the map with troubled frowns. Finally, one of the advisors tapped at a marker.

“What about these caves? Do we know how deep they run?” an advisor mused. “How many men could we hide within?”

“Maybe two hundred, two hundred fifty each. There’s at least three of them,” Jeremy chimed in. All eyes turned to him, and he blushed. Ducking his head shyly, he turned towards the king defensively. “Gavin wanted to explore them.”

Ryan nodded thoughtfully, crossing his arms. “Horses?” he inquired shortly.

Jeremy shook his head. “Too steep. Archers and artillery would be better. But-” Jeremy hesitated, biting his lip nervously. “We might not be able to use the cave to the West. There was a mother bear with cubs in that one, about two months ago. They might not have moved on.”

“Even better, fresh meat. We’ll have less rations to carry,” the general declared. Jeremy stared at him in askance.

“And turn Mogar against us the eve before the battle?” he asked, incredulous. The general sneered.

“You’ll learn, boy, that wars are won by strategy and strength, not make belief,” he said condescendingly. “The gods do not bother with individual deeds, and individuals do not win wars.”

Jeremy narrowed his eyes.

“The soldiers will take it as an ill omen, and we’ll lose morale,” he argued, putting his hands on the table and leaning forward. “Nevermind that a mother bear is ferocious when protecting her young. We’d lose men even before the battle begins.”

“A few deaths in securing the site is nothing compared to the hundreds more that can hide in a single cave,” the general countered, waving him off. The advisors nodded along. “And we can spin the bear meat as a sacrifice to Mogar for his goodwill.”

“I doubt that would work,” a new voice drawled, and all heads turned towards the door. A man stood there, wearing bear fur like a cape. His chest was bare except for red paint on his skin, the streaks emphasizing his muscles.

“And who are you?” one of the advisors questioned, standing up and pointing at him angrily. “How dare you interrupt this meeting?!”

“No one you’d care about,” the man shot back flippantly, then stalked past him straight towards the king. Jeremy tensed, hand dropping to the pommel of his sword. The man stopped, eyeing him bemusedly. “You, on the other hand…”

“Michael.” Ryan laid a hand on Jeremy’s shoulder, urging him to step back. Jeremy relaxed slowly, keeping a wary eye on the newcomer. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?”

“I came to apologize to your buddy here, actually,” Michael explained, jerking his chin in Jeremy’s direction. Then he snorted. “Now that Gavin stopped hovering like a mother hen.”

Jeremy’s brow knit into a frown. “Apologize?”

Michael nodded, tapping his own side right below the chest. “For that. Kinda a dick move, in hindsight. Gavin explained what you were doing there.”

“You’re-” Jeremy pushed a palm against the bandaged wound, eyes going wide. “Mo… ga- _Gavin_ ’s Michael?”

Michael hummed agreeably, his brown eyes holding Jeremy’s in a steady gaze. For a second, Jeremy swore he could feel his presence in the air, thick and heavy and _powerful_. Then Michael turned back to Ryan, mustering his face thoughtfully.

“Your cause is just in that you do what is necessary to protect your people,” he intoned, nodding to the king. “But so is your enemies’. Some of yours have caused them great strife, and they deserve a chance at retribution.”

Loud protests echoed through the chamber as the advisors’ voices rose with objections to Michael’s words. Ryan, however, simply held up a hand to call for silence, and they fell quiet.

“What is your advice?”

“You have an ace up your sleeve, but Mogar’s goodwill is not guaranteed,” Michael warned him. “Do not take his favour for granted.”

“This is absurd,” the general butted in, sounding annoyed. “All of this. First the greenhorn street rat joining this august body, and then a nobody interloper spewing mystical nonsense! Your Majesty, you cannot truly be considering their words.”

“I realize you are not the most pious of men, General,” Ryan said mildly, his icy gaze fixing on the man. “But do take care. There is a place and time for your blasphemy and this certainly isn’t it.”

“...as you wish, Your Majesty,” the general grunted, glaring into Michael and Jeremy’s direction.

“I have heard what you have to say, and I will keep your words in mind. This meeting is adjourned.” Ryan waved them away, and the advisors rose slowly. Jeremy hesitated before taking a step towards the door. Ryan’s hand on his arm stopped him. “A word, Sir Dooley.”

They waited as the advisors and generals filtered out of the room. Several glanced back curiously, but the king’s visage remained blank. Finally, the door closed with a heavy thud.

“You’re Mogar,” Jeremy blurted out, pointing at Michael. After a second he dropped his hand, feeling a little silly.

“I am indeed,” Michael- _Mogar_ agreed, mustering him intently. “And you must be Gavvy’s human. He’s been talking about nothing else lately.” He glanced at Ryan curiously. “Doesn’t that bother you?”

“It did, at first,” Ryan admitted easily, and Jeremy turned his face away feeling guilty. There was a long pause before Ryan continued. “How did you know? I thought the gods had no use for monogamy.”

Mogar shrugged. “Wars have been fought over love thwarted. I have a different perspective on human romance than Gavin does. So I found it curious, not that he added another human to his collection, but that his first human didn’t feel replaced.”

Jeremy bit his lip, frowning. He wasn’t a replacement, and surely the king knew that? Whatever Gavin’s short… obsession with him, it was clear as day that he loved Ryan with all his heart and would do everything for him. Jeremy felt a pang at the thought. He wished he could find love like that, but he knew he was just a passing fancy. Someone the king kept close because his lover enjoyed his companionship, but nothing more.

“There was some jealousy at first, but we came to an understanding,” Ryan said brusquely, and Jeremy ducked his head. A hand landed on his shoulder, turning him to face the king, a finger under his chin lifting his head. “Jeremy is… special. I can see the appeal now.”

Jeremy blinked up at him, startled. He felt his cheeks heat at the words, his stomach rolling with nerves. He glanced at Mogar, who was watching them intently, arching an eyebrow in surprise.

“So that’s how it is,” he concluded slowly. Jeremy’s eyes flicked up to Ryan’s blue ones.

“That’s how it is,” Ryan agreed in a deep voice.

“What is?” Jeremy asked quietly, heart beating fast. Ryan tilted his head, looking down at him carefully. Mogar snorted a laugh.

“Perhaps gods aren’t the only ones having difficulties understanding humans,” he pointed out, shaking his head with a grin. “I’ll leave you to it. _Don’t_ dare kill the cubs.”

Between one blink and the next, Mogar vanished without a trace.

“Sire?” Jeremy queried shyly. Ryan’s knuckles brushed along his jaw, thumb stroking over his cheekbone.

“Is it so hard to understand?” Ryan whispered, cupping his cheek. “I’ve been offering for a while now, yet you do not take me up on it. Is it rejection, or are you oblivious to my attempts?”

“I cannot be certain, sire,” Jeremy murmured, lowering his eyes. “I have no worth, yet Your Majesty insists on rewarding me for my deeds, trivial though they might have been.”

“I raised you to knighthood,” Ryan pointed out, thumbing over his cheek. “I gave you title and station.”

“An apology and a kindness for my wounds, sire,” Jeremy replied earnestly, searching Ryan’s troubled face. “How else could I see it but that?”

“I send you gifts,” Ryan continued carefully, looking worried now. “Gavin said the horse was well received.”

“A kindness, to make me feel less awkward in my station,” Jeremy said with a small smile. “The only one of the kingsguard without a horse, a reminder of all that I’m… not. And Your Majesty is nothing if not kind.”

“You are so much more than just your past, Jeremy,” Ryan replied fiercely, his hand slipping around to cup his neck. “I would not ask you to accompany Gavin and I on our private outings if I did not enjoy your company.”

“But… you needed a guard,” Jeremy refuted, frowning in confusion. Ryan shook his head with a light smile.

“We never bothered to bring one before, why start now?” he pointed out, smile widening into a grin. “We’re gods. Or rather, Gavin is, but I am not completely human, either. A tale for another time, perhaps. But know this, Jeremy. I keep you in my trust, and that is a rare gift indeed.”

“I’m not sure I understand, sire,” Jeremy whispered, swallowing hard. “And I cannot afford to be wrong in this. Please, Your Majesty. I need you to say it.”

Ryan hesitated, his breath brushing warmly over Jeremy’s lips. “I dare not, for words are too easily mistaken as an order. I do not wish to take advantage of your situation, my station grants me too much control over your life. And Jeremy, you’ve suffered enough at another’s whims already.”

He carefully brushed a hand over Jeremy’s side, where the wound was still healing under the bandage. Jeremy grimaced slightly. When he looked back up, it was to find Ryan staring at him as if mesmerized.

“I did not mind,” he replied truthfully. “I- Gavin is-”

“Gavin is something else,” Ryan agreed with a small smile. Jeremy nodded earnestly.

“I would do it again, for him,” he confessed, and then, quieter, “I would do it for you as well, sire.”

“Ryan,” he corrected, fingers tracing along his nape. “We’re in private, Jeremy.”

“Ryan,” Jeremy repeated reverently. There was a spark in Ryan’s eyes that drew him closer.

He wasn’t sure who moved first, but still he startled at the first touch of lips. Gasping, he opened his mouth, and Ryan dove straight in, pressing their lips together firmly. His grasp on his neck tightened, pulling him in. Jeremy huffed, standing on tiptoes to press closer, lips moving surely against Ryan’s. His fingers dug into Ryan’s shirt, the cloth rumbling under his grip. Ryan’s lips felt smooth against his own chapped ones, and a warmth was spreading in his chest.

It was like a dam broke lose. Jeremy held on like a drowning man, drank in the kiss like he was starving. When they finally parted, Jeremy felt reluctant to let go.

“We want you with us, Jeremy,” Ryan said huskily, their noses brushing against each other. “The door is open, whenever you’re ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like this story, please let me know in the comments or over here on [my tumblr!](http://miss-ingno.tumblr.com/post/162748382417/and-socrates-asked-34)


	4. Who Believes In True Love?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As their relationship blossoms, Jeremy only gains more enemies. Gavin is forced to once more confront the mortality of his beloved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I've rewritten the second scene three or four times at this point :'D I'm still not quite happy with the flow, but it's the best I can do for now.
> 
> Please enjoy the last and longest chapter of Socrates <3 Hope it was worth the wait!

Jeremy was floating on cloud nine.

He followed the king- _Ryan_ \- around the castle most days, and when the other guards were dismissed, Jeremy was allowed to stay behind. Sometimes Gavin joined them, but often he would give them space. Getting to know Ryan was a strange and elating feeling, something that stole his breath and had his heart hammering against his chest.

On his days off-duty, Gavin would seek him out and take him on small adventures in the city. He hadn’t been back to the slums where he’d grown up since he joined the army, but now he showed Gavin, told him more about his past. Some days Ryan would join them, dressed in common guard armour to blend in. He listened to Jeremy attentively and watched the people they met with a small frown.

Jeremy found himself opening up to them more and more.

Maybe it was less than surprising then, that Ryan ordered food to be distributed among the poor. To raise buildings on the outskirts of the city before the winter, where everyone was free to stay. Instead, Jeremy just felt a rising affection for the king. He knew Ryan wanted to make sure to leave his people in the best hands.

The battle at the pass had been quick and decisive, ending in their favour. Jeremy stayed behind to guard the king, of course, but the council was aware of his contribution, as loathe they were to admit it aloud. It was after one such meetings when Ryan dismissed the council, and Jeremy stayed behind hopefully.

“Walk with me, Jeremy,” Ryan said, giving him a careful look. Jeremy nodded, falling into step with his king as he lead them towards the royal gardens.

He’d never walked them before, since they were off-limits to commoners. Curiously he glanced around, reaching out to touch one of the more exotic flowers. The garden was a rainbow full of colours, one blooming flower prettier than the next. Jeremy looked at them in awe, giving Ryan time to gather his thoughts.

“These were my mother's favourite,” Ryan spoke up suddenly, breaking the silence. Jeremy glanced up from the orange and yellow blooms. “She would always tell me she’d first had them planted the year of my birth, to honour the Golden Fool.”

Ryan’s lips twitched, bending down and carefully tracing a finger along the petals.

“Of course, Gavin doesn’t care much for flowers. It’s the sentiment that counts.”

“You still keep the flowers, though,” Jeremy pointed out hesitantly. “Even though Gavin couldn’t care less.”

“In memory of my mother,” Ryan explained, standing straight with a sigh. He clasped his hands behind his back. “She may not have birthed me, but she’d always… cared.” He stared sadly down at the flower beds. “I’d almost… forgotten.”

Jeremy frowned, baffled. “Forgotten?”

Ryan glanced at him. “Caring so… deeply, and freely, even for strangers. She had a big heart.” He grinned crookedly. “You remind me of her.”

Jeremy startled, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Me?”

“You,” Ryan repeated, grin softening into a smile. “It’s… hard to remember, sometimes. What it means to be human.” He ducked his head, eyes growing distant. “Even as I live among them… I try my best to do right by my people, but it’s hard to understand them, sometimes. Gavin doesn’t get it. And sometimes. Sometimes I wonder why I bother.”

“Ryan…” Jeremy trailed off, reaching for his hand and intertwining their fingers shyly.

“These last few weeks… You’ve reminded me of what it means, to be human. And for that, I thank you.”

Jeremy squeezed his hand and stepped closer, raising his free hand to gently brush his knuckles over Ryan’s cheek.

“You are a good king, Ryan. You’re kind and fair.” Jeremy cupped his cheek, tilting his head down. “The decisions you have to make are hard, and sometimes you have to be harsh. But I’ve never doubted your loyalty to your people.”

Ryan smiled softly, leaning into the touch. “And yet, it is you who showed me who those people are. I thought surrounding myself with human advisors would be enough to balance my divine side, but they’re small and petty. Only now, with you by my side, am I starting to realize. Gavin is callous towards human lives, it’s in his nature. And I’ve allowed myself to grow complacent.”

“You hoped giving him humans as companions would make him appreciate their lives more,” Jeremy inferred, brow furrowing.

“And instead, we gained you,” Ryan confirmed, covering Jeremy’s hand over his cheek with one of his own. “You’re my anchor, Jeremy. You tie me to my humanity.”

Jeremy had to swallow hard. “Ryan… I… I’m just a street rat who got lucky, I don’t-”

But Ryan placed a finger over his lips and shushed him. He pulled Jeremy in by their entwined hands, moving to cup his cheek with the other.

“You’re everything,” Ryan whispered, leaning in until his breath brushed over Jeremy’s lips. “Come stay with me tonight. Let me show you… prove to you how much you mean to me.”

“Wha- what about Gavin?” Jeremy murmured, lips grazing Ryan’s as he spoke. “Shouldn’t he…”

Ryan kissed him, soft and chaste. Jeremy could feel his cheeks warm, and he closed his eyes as he leaned into the kiss. After lingering for a moment longer, Ryan backed up slowly, squeezing Jeremy’s hand.

“Gavin offered to give us space tonight, so we could… explore this without his influence. He’ll keep busy with Michael.”

Jeremy frowned, before realization dawned. “He’s afraid that he’s pushing us into this.”

Ryan nodded. “He wants us to be sure that this is something we both want, too, and not something we’re getting into as a favour to him.”

Ryan’s voice was wry, and Jeremy would put the slight tremble down to a dry mouth, if it weren’t for the hesitant look in his direction. Jeremy frowned, glancing down at the flowers. It was strange, seeing the king so nervous. Worried about _Jeremy’s_ opinion of all things.

“He doesn’t need to concern himself,” Jeremy assured him, aware that he wasn’t just talking about Gavin. “You’re quite the catch, as he should know.”

Ryan shrugged, shoulders tense.

“I am the king,” he pointed out awkwardly. “I am showered with compliments daily, but it’s hard to tell when they are genuine.”

“Ryan,” Jeremy started, ringing for words. “You’re amazing. You’ve been nothing but honest with me, showered me in gifts. And I don’t just mean gold and jewels and other courtship tokens. You’ve gifted me with pieces of yourself - the clearing in the forest, this garden, and so many more memories of your past. You listen to what I have to say, to show you, and you elevated me to a position as equal to yours as I’ll ever be able to achieve.”

He paused, clasping both of Ryan’s hands between his own as he stared up earnestly at the king.

“I’m not nearly as good with words as you are, but my affections are genuine.” His eyes took on a challenging glint. “Let me prove it to you. Tonight.”

 

* * *

 

Gavin was absolutely, utterly bored.

Ryan was busy in court and had kicked him out before he could delay proceedings with one of his pranks. Jeremy had the day off, but instead of spending it with Gavin, he was out to catch up with some soldier friends of his. No matter how much Gavin pouted. And then Michael went to watch Ryan in court, knowing Gavin was explicitly forbidden from following, the traitor.

Raised voices reached his ears. Gavin perked up, flouncing down the hallway to peek around the corner.

Two guards appeared to be arguing with one of the men of Ryan’s council. Gavin squinted. The general, maybe? Gavin couldn’t quite recall, and he didn’t much care as long as they didn’t plot against Ryan. The guards’ voices echoed loudly down the corridor, agitated. The general crossed his arms and replied sharply, shortly. Gavin watched curiously as he turned his back on them.

“-need to speak with the king. Please, it is urgent!”

The general glared grimly over his shoulder at them.

“Bring it up with your superiors and stop trying to waste His Majesty’s time. He has much more important matters to attend to.”

“But sir-!”

The general’s face clouded with anger, and Gavin took in the guards more carefully. They were scruffy and dirty, as if they’d been in a recent fight.

“I said get out, soldiers.”

The door fell shut with a heavy thud. Gavin observed the two guards as they exchanged a frustrated look. Excitement bubbled up in his chest. Finally something was happening!

“What now? The king is still our best chance, but if we can’t get word to him…”

“Do you think he’s being obtuse on purpose?” the other asked, frowning at the closed door. “Because it’s about-” He glanced around furtively and Gavin ducked back around the corner. “-you know.”

That seemed worth investigating. He glanced down at himself, frowning in concentration. With a snap of his fingers, his clothes transformed into a green and gold tunic and pants, fit to pass for any courtier. Then Gavin straightened himself and purposefully stepped around the corner. The first guard looked startled at the other’s words.

“Are you suggesting-”

His jaw snapped shut, eyes alighting on Gavin, walking towards them. The guards glanced at each other worriedly and then gave him stiff bows as he approached. Gavin had to suppress a grin. This was gonna be _fun_. And technically _he_ didn’t start any trouble, so Ryan couldn’t be too mad.

“Gentlemen,” Gavin drawled, sauntering up to them. “I couldn’t help but overhear. What sort of message might you carry that His Majesty must hear of it immediately?”

They traded a hesitant look, before the smaller one answered carefully.

“My lord. I’m afraid we can’t pass the message along with anyone, it must be delivered personally to the king.”

Gavin eyed him knowingly. “You don’t trust the court. How curious.” He grinned slyly as he tossed out his offer, “A bargain, then. Tell me what happened, and I promise you an audience with the king.”

“My lord, what guarantee do we have that you can make this happen?” the taller one asked shrewdly. “How do we know that you have the power to get word to the king?”

“Just my word,” Gavin waved him off, eyeing him consideringly. The slight to his perceived self-importance would have many a courtier bristling, what clever words to choose. Gavin found himself intrigued. Maybe a bribe would get him the information he desired. “I don’t think I’ve seen you in here before. If your message aids my King, I will see you promoted to palace guard or an equivalent position of your wishes.”

The looks the guards exchanged were decidedly dubious. Finally, the taller of the two spoke.

“There was a scuffle with infiltrators within the city,” he caved, before narrowing his eyes and choosing his next words with care. “What we learned from them… We cannot risk this message to be delayed any further. We will speak to the king on this matter, and no one else.”

“Interesting,” Gavin murmured, tilting his head. “Not even an advisor? My, what plot have you uncovered that would lead you to such distrust?”

“We tried telling General Resh,” the smaller one muttered, and Gavin turned his gaze to him. “It’s of… personal importance to His Majesty, yet he send us off with no intention of passing the message on.”

“Is the king in danger?” Gavin asked sharply, playful demeanour cast aside in an instant. His mind flickered to the last and only time someone managed to poison Ryan. His fists clenched and he grit his teeth. Not ever again. Not under his watch.

The guards exchanged another nervous look. “Not… exactly.”

Gavin relaxed immediately, even as he narrowed his eyes and flicked his gaze between them contemplatively. No danger, then, just the usual politics. Perfect for some harmless mischief. “But you believe these news to be dire.”

“Time is of the essence,” the taller guard said urgently, staring pleadingly at Gavin. “If my lord would sponsor an audience, I’m certain my lord will be rewarded richly-”

“Okay,” Gavin agreed easily, then shrugged at their disbelieving stares. No need to barter, bringing this sort of intrigue to light, setting the nobles awhirl was more than worth the trouble. Besides, his curiosity was killing him at this point. “The court’s been too quiet lately. What better than some dastardly plot uncovered to stir them up?”

The guards looked at each other and grimaced, before turning to him and nodding. Putting on a grin, Gavin beckoned them to follow. They hurried after him as Gavin skipped down the corridor, slipping through a well-hidden side door. He waited gleefully for them to catch up with him, bowing with a flourish.

“I don’t believe I’ve caught your names, gentlemen.” Gavin grinned, straightening. He gently closed the door behind them, then walked over and flipped a brazier upside down. The wall ground against the stone floor, revealing a slim opening. “After you.”

“I’m Matt,” the smaller guard introduced himself, eyeing the hole dubiously. “This is Trevor. And you didn’t introduce yourself, either.”

“Didn’t I?” Gavin bat his eyes innocently, stepping through the opening. “Whoops. Must have slipped my mind.”

They ducked through the hole after him, the wall grinding close the moment they stepped through. Matt and Trevor shot each other a wary look, while Gavin mused why those names seemed vaguely familiar. Oh well. Mortal names all sounded the same in the end.

“I can’t help but notice you’re avoiding that question,” the taller one - Trevor - drawled. Gavin shot him a smug grin.

“Hm, if you must, I suppose you can call me… Free.” He beckoned them forward, stopping in front of a patch of wall. “This will open directly to the throne room. Are you ready, dear sirs?”

Matt took a deep breath and nodded to Trevor. The taller guard turned to Gavin and quirked a brow.

“We’ll follow your lead, my lord,” he drawled, and Gavin suppressed a snort. He liked this one’s attitude. With a flick of his hand, Gavin activated the hidden mechanism, not giving away the secret to curious eyes boring into him. The wall slipped open a lot more quietly than the first, revealing the throne and the crowd of nobles gathered in front. It took everyone a moment to notice them appear in the corner behind the throne, but eventually a hush fell over the crowd.

“What is the meaning of this?” one of the old advisors demanded gravely. Next to him stood the general that brushed off Matt and Trevor earlier, glowering as the two stepped into the hall behind Gavin. The trickster just smirked, sauntering up to the throne with sheer confidence. Ryan watched him with dry amusement, resigned to the shenanigans to come. Gavin gave him a salacious wink, before turning to the fuming advisor, rolling onto the balls of his feet with his arms clasped behind his back.

“Just a short interruption, gentlemen and gentleladies. But who doesn’t like a break for entertainment after all these dry, boring sessions?” he declared loudly, before promptly turning his back on the sputtering council. He skipped ahead to the throne and bowed with a flourish. “On today’s itinerary, we have mischief, intrigue and a plot most delightful! Or, well-” Gavin’s wide grin dropped into a pout. “-at least I hope it’s interesting. They wouldn’t tell me, love.”

“Gavin,” Ryan sighed exasperatedly. “I realize you are bored, my dear-”

“No, no, I promise this is worth it,” Gavin interjected gleefully, bouncing on the ball of his feet. “See, Sargent Radish over there is trying to keep this a secret from you. And then I thought to myself, what could such a venerable and honoured gentleman be hiding?”

Gavin danced up the stairs and leaned over the arm of the throne, fluttering his lashes.

“Aren’t you curious, Ryan?”

“You dare-” the general started, but the king cut him off with a raised hand. Gavin relished in the power his betrothed wielded so easily. Yes, he would make a fine god once he ascended.

Ryan looked at him, arching a brow. “You are quite certain, my dear?”

“Positive,” Gavin assured him enthusiastically, head bobbing up and down.

“Then I will hear what they have to say,” Ryan said imperiously, motioning the guards to step up. “Speak. What news do you bring?”

Trevor and Matt hurried to kneel in front of the steps of the throne, and Gavin perched onto the arm, letting his gaze strife over the crowd curiously, trying to catch their reactions.

“We were ambushed within the city by soldiers dressed in Noiturian armour, Your Majesty,” Matt started hesitantly. “We were on our way back to the barracks when it happened. Eight soldiers wearing orange and blue colours waited for us in an alley. We tried to fight them off but we were outnumbered.”

Gavin’s gaze slid over to the council. The general radiated smugness, but some of the advisors fidgeted nervously.

“They stopped fighting once our companion fell unconscious,” Trevor continued for Matt. “We tried to get to him but we weren’t fast enough. They took him hostage and are holding him for ransom.”

“This is preposterous,” one of the advisors burst out, frowning heavily at the two guards. Gavin eyed him lazily. “Your Majesty, this is a waste of time. The negotiations with the Noiturians are going well, there is no sense in such a move.”

“There is no way they’d be able to sneak into our capital unnoticed,” the general boasted, sneering at Trevor and Matt. “Clearly these two had one too many a drink to come up with such nonsense.”

Gavin cocked his head, observing the guards curiously. They did not seem very drunk. Apparently Ryan agreed with him as he returned his gaze to them.

“You said ‘dressed as’. That implies you don’t think they were who they pretended to be.”

“No, Sire,” Matt agreed hesitantly. “Their colourful armour is rather noticeable. As General Resh says, they couldn’t have snuck in wearing those.”

“Which leaves the question, why bother putting it on again?” Trevor added. Ryan hummed thoughtfully.

“Your companion?” he asked, and Gavin huffed. This turned out a lot more boring than he hoped. He idly kicked his legs, gaze searching the crowd, looking for Michael. He didn’t see him, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t _there_. “Who are they that the hostiles believe them to be of importance as a hostage?”

The guards hesitated, looking at each other for a long second, before-

“Sir Jeremy of Dooley, Your Majesty.”

Gavin froze.

At his side, Ryan tensed.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Matt and I took Jeremy to the tavern for lunch, trying to catch up. Our schedules hadn’t matched up since he was knighted.”

Gavin turned to face them slowly. The words sounded muffled, distant. _I’m going out with friends_. Wasn’t that what Jeremy had said?

“They told us they’d be holding him for ransom and that they’d only talk to the king,” Matt continued hastily. “We came here immediately, trying to gain an audience with Your Majesty-”

“They have Jeremy,” Gavin said quietly. Slowly, he turned to face Ryan, feeling incredibly cold. “We need to get him back.”

Ryan nodded slowly, his face a blank mask. The council shifted, glancing at one another uncertainly.

“We should not give in to their demands,” one of them spoke up, stepping forth. Another nodded immediately.

“Sir Dooley is lost,” he agreed. “This has to be a trap, Your Majesty. What evidence do we have to trust these men’s words?”

A murmur swept through the crowd.

“What is the worth of one man’s life compared to the good of many?” the first continued, making a careless gesture. “If they dress falsely, they might want negotiations to sour. We cannot give in to their demands.”

“Yes,” another agreed almost eagerly. “Let them have Sir Dooley, he is certainly replaceable. There is no need to bother with such fools.”

“Your courtiers forget themselves.” Gavin sneered. He stood up, taking a step forward- in the blink of an eye, he was towering intimidatingly over the speaker. “Perhaps a reminder of who they are dealing with is necessary.”

“You dare-!” the first advisor sputtered, but Ryan cut him off, hand slicing through the air.

“You can deal with them as you see fit later, my dear,” he said, sounding strained. His glare swept over the council, and some of them took an involuntary step back, looking chastised. “For now, recovering Jeremy is the priority.”

Something in Ryan’s tone caught his attention and he whirled around to stare at his betrothed. Ryan grimaced, voice soft but firm, “They might not care to keep Jeremy alive for long.”

“They wouldn’t _dare_ ,” Gavin spat, before looking at Ryan uncertainly. “Would they?”

“That depends on what their goals are,” Michael spoke up, stepping out of the crowd of nobles and crossing his arms. “Someone who is very aware of how attached Ryan is to your little mortal and wants to sabotage a peaceful resolution to the fighting? There’s more than one warmonger among the council.”

“Such baseless accusations-” another of the advisors sputtered, but fell silent under the combined glare of the king and the god of war.

“Michael,” Ryan greeted the god, inclining his head. “What do you know of this situation?”

“Not much,” Michael admitted, shrugging. “Whatever it is, it’s just barely to do with the current war here. I am aware of some advisors pushing for further hostilities on both sides. I doubt that was the primary motivation behind the kidnapping, however.”

Gavin’s eyes lit up and he spun Michael by the shoulders to face him.

“Jeremy’s a soldier, right? You should be able to find him-” But Michael was already shaking his head. Gavin’s face darkened and he glared at his friend angrily. “Why the bloody hell not? Were you not rubbing it into my face yesterday that as a soldier he’s your charge?”

“I’m only peripherally aware of plots meant to keep this war going. There’s more strife in this world that demands my attention than petty intrigues.” He takes Gavin’s hands, prying them carefully off his shoulders. “There’s thousands soldiers within this city right now, Gav. I could not pick Jeremy out from among them. I’m sorry.”

Gavin’s shoulders slumped and Michael squeezed his hand. He stared helplessly at his friend.

“There must be something we can do,” he whispered desperately. Michael just slowly shook his head.

“Then I will handle this,” Ryan spoke up and Gavin turned to look at him. His voice was dark, dangerous, and the look in his eyes grim. He gave Gavin a tight smile. “I will meet with those who dare take what is mine, and I will find out who is behind this.”

“Your Majesty, I must object,” one of the councillors spoke up. “Send an advisor if You must, but don’t risk Your own life for such a trifle, Sire!”

“And trust you bunch when you’ve made your opinion known already?” Gavin demanded, incredulous. But he was frowning. Jeremy was already in danger, he could not put Ryan in danger, too. He nodded firmly. “I’ll go.”

“Your diplomatic experience is rather limited, my dear,” Ryan drawled. His face was inscrutable, tapping a nail against the arm of the throne. “Yet I share your… _misgivings_.”

“Your Majesty cannot honestly believe Your council would purposefully put You in danger-”

“Me? No,” Ryan replied lowly, and a chill seemed to descend over the crowd. “Jeremy? That, I doubt.”

“They were denied an audience,” Gavin murmured, eyes lingering on the guards- Jeremy’s friends. Ryan followed his gaze and sat up straighter.

“You told someone of this dire situation?” he asked, focussing his attention back on the guards.

“We brought up the issue with General Resh, Your Majesty,” Matt answered promptly. Gavin’s eyes narrowed and he turned his head in sync with his betrothed, staring at the general.

“He seemed rather unwilling to listen to our message to begin with,” Trevor added, an angry quirk to his grin. “Before we got to say much, even.”

“This is absurd,” the general snarled, crossing his arms behind his back and falling into parade rest. “I do not appreciate these veiled accusations. I am loyal to the crown and my King.”

“To me, perhaps.” Ryan considered him with dark eyes. “But you have been opposed to Jeremy - his suggestions, his rise in ranks.”

“Because he is young and inexperienced!” the general thundered, face reddening in anger. “And yet he has Your Majesty wrapped around his little finger!”

“Take care of how you speak,” Gavin hissed, stepping forward and vanishing. He reappeared behind the general, hands on his shoulders as he leaned in to whisper darkly into his ear. “I do not suffer insults to my beloved easily.”

“And this- this- _fool_.” The general shook off his hands and turned to point at Gavin. “This jester just waltzes into court and takes over- Your Majesty, I beg Your forgiveness but I cannot help but question if Your Majesty is not compromised.”

A ripple went through the court, muttering and shifting. Ryan leaned forward, eyeing the council intently.

“I see.”

“There was no reason to knight Sir Dooley,” another advisor chimed in, jerking his chin in Gavin’s direction. “Except that he caught this man’s fancy. We trust Your Majesty’s judgement, of course-”

“Do you?” Ryan interrupted silkily as he stood up from his throne. He slowly stepped down the stairs. “Have you not just accused my judgement to be clouded? Proposed that I am blinded by the company I keep?”

“Your Majesty is usually most discreet in such matters,” a different advisor spoke up carefully. “But not lately, especially in regards to Sir Dooley. Perhaps it is time to consider a marriage arrangement. A wife might help to keep a clear head.”

“I will eventually do my duty and ensure heirs of royal blood,” Ryan said frostily. “Who shares my bed at present does not change that.”

Gavin watched closely, confused and frustrated. Finally, he snapped.

“That’s all nice and dandy, but what has this to do with Jeremy?” he demanded. He clenched and unclenched his fist. “This is not helping us to recover him!”

“It is, actually,” Ryan glanced at him, his eyes dark with fury. He bared his teeth. “It does appear as if the council wishes to get rid of… undue influences. I don’t doubt they would’ve tried for you, my dear, if you showed up in disguise less often.”

“Then let them try,” Gavin snarled. “They are too _blind_ to see who they are dealing with.”

The council shifted, shooting each other uncertain looks. Gavin bared his teeth.

“Perhaps,” Ryan murmured, but it echoed loudly through the silent chamber. “Perhaps it is time to reveal yourself to them, my dear. Make them remember the deal that was struck the day of my birth.”

Two of the older advisors sucked in a breath, paling rapidly. Gavin turned his gaze to them, letting his eyes glow golden.

“You- You are-” one stammered, and Gavin let warmth fill him.

“Indeed.”

He shrugged off his cloak, green sparks dancing through the air around him. Golden light embraced him, lighting his immediate vicinity. In the stunned silence, barked laughter sounded out, reverberating from the walls, echoing with the howls of wolves and the roar of a bear. Gavin turned his head as Mogar stepped up next to him in his full, divine glory.

“I am the Golden Fool,” Gavin announced, voice resounding loudly in the silent hall. “God of the lost and stolen, of thieves and tricksters. Years ago I struck a deal with your old king. He would have his heir, but in return the child, once grown, would be mine.”

He paused, eyeing the shaking advisors contemptuously.

“Did you think I would forget? That I would not come for my betrothed?” He let the words linger, before continuing derisively. “I came for Ryan the moment he reached maturity. Be grateful to your king because he loves his people very much. He begged me for more time, time to see his kingdom safely in the hands of his heir.

“And I granted him this wish because I am not without mercy.” His face darkened and he glared at the council. “But my patience wears thin. There are only two mortals on this plane I truly care about. One is here - where is the other?”

Gavin turned his burning gaze to the general and caught his wide eyes. Stared him down with all his divine might as he started to tremble.

“Where. Is. _Jeremy_.”

 

* * *

 

“How’d you find me?” Jeremy questioned dazedly as Gavin snapped his fingers and the ropes turned to ash. He clenched his hands into fists, and Gavin reached out to grab one, fingers carefully tracing the red lines where rope had cut into skin.

“Jeremy, with the power of our love, of course, Jeremy,” the god chirped, lifting his hand to kiss the inside of his wrist.

“Bullshit,” Jeremy called, and Gavin pouted at him.

“We love you, Jeremy, of course we came. Did you doubt us, Jeremy?”

“No, of course not,” Jeremy hastened to assure him, turning his hand in Gavin’s and entangling their fingers. “Never doubted that you’d come for a second. Just… how?”

Gavin sniffed, raising his head haughtily. “Let’s just say Ryan needs to look for a new general.”

Jeremy shot him a confused look, letting Gavin drag him out of the small closet his captors had stashed him in.

“Wait. What’s General Resh got to do with this?”

“He orchestrated this entire situation,” Ryan spoke up, and Jeremy looked to see the king walk down the stairs. Guards were milling around the house, giving them a wide berth. “He hired mercenaries to dress as our enemies to sabotage the ceasefire and upcoming peace negotiations. They were supposed to kill you the moment a royal messenger reached them.”

They met at the bottom of the stairs, and Ryan cupped Jeremy’s face, thumb stroking gently over his cheeks.

“Are you hurt?” he asked quietly, and Jeremy smiled up at him, leaning into the touch.

“Just a little bruised. I’m fine.” He hesitated, then asked, “Did Matt and Trevor make it back alright?”

Ryan nodded, his expression softening. “Their wounds were minor. They’re being treated right now.”

Arms wrapped around his waist from behind him, and Gavin hooked his chin over his shoulder. When Jeremy turned his head, blond hair brush over his cheek. Ryan’s hand dropped to cup his neck, pressing their foreheads together.

“We were worried,” he admitted hoarsely, fingers a warm pressure on his neck. Jeremy shivered. “I knew you had enemies at court, but I didn’t expect…”

He trailed off, and Jeremy glanced around before leaning in for a quick kiss, a chaste brush of lips.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that anymore,” Gavin muttered darkly, burying his nose in Jeremy’s hair, lips brushing the top of his ear. “I made sure of it.”

Jeremy quirked a brow, leaning his weight back into Gavin. “Dare I ask?”

“Let’s just say he made an example of the general,” Ryan explained, shaking his head. “It wasn’t pretty.”

“He tried to hurt one of mine. He deserved it.” Gavin scowled and kissed Jeremy behind the shell of his ear. “I don’t like being reminded of how vulnerable you are. How fragile. Mortal.”

“I’m sorry,” Jeremy muttered, ducking his head. Gavin’s arms tightened around him.

“Don’t be,” he whispered back, pressing their cheeks together. “It is what it is.”

“He frets every time I fall sick, too,” Ryan tried to reassure him, squeezing his neck. Jeremy closed his eyes and Ryan pulled him closer, cheek resting against his warm chest. “You’ll get used to it.”

“As long as you’re willing to keep me,” Jeremy joked weakly, and Ryan dropped a kiss in his hair.

“As long as you’re willing to stay,” he replied calmly. Gavin pressed closer against his back.

“Please stay?” he asked just barely above a whisper, something vulnerable in his voice. Jeremy closed his eyes and smiled.

“Always.”

Because who would have thought that with one assignment, barely better than a death sentence, he would find true love not just once, but twice?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus concludes the story of And Socrates Asked: Of Gods And Kings.
> 
> Thank you for everyone who contributed by commenting or sending in asks - those of you who've read through the comments or [the tag](miss-ingno.tumblr.com/tagged/and+socrates+asked/chrono/) might've noticed that some of those worldbuilding elements made it into this chapter. They wouldn't be here without you.
> 
> Special thanks to Shade for being ever so patient. I hope you like your gift <3


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